


Wildfire

by Mixxy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: A lot of blood tbh, Blood, Blood Kink, Hux gets off on power, Hux is messed up ok, Kylo-typical violence, M/M, Murder fantasies?, Smut, They fuck in a pool of blood that's it that's the fic, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 08:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5862001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixxy/pseuds/Mixxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ren kisses him and the smell of iron is thick in the air. Hux grabs at his hair, his back, and his hands come away sticky and scarlet. </p><p>It's still warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildfire

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to apologize to not only God but also Jesus for this fic.
> 
> Uh, warnings I guess for blood (like, seriously), and non-graphic gore. And Hux and Kylo being…Hux and Kylo.

Kylo Ren is fire.

He burns bright and hot, uncontrolled, destroying everything in his path, which just fuels him further. You cannot expect to put him out, you can only hope you get through the fire on the other side with your skin intact.

Hux thinks of wildfires on dry planets. Unstoppable forces, and the swath of devastation left behind. Yet, there are plants and animals that can only function when the brush is periodically cleared with the searing heat. It is an obliteration, but from the emptiness grows new life.

He has dreams, sometimes, of Ren laying waste through the galaxy, crushing all that is into pieces, and Hux himself picking them up and assembling them into something greater.

 

* * *

 

“You don’t need to come.”

“That’s hardly your decision, general.”

Hux sucks in an annoyed breath through his teeth but doesn’t change his facial expression. Ren coming along on missions always makes things more complicated. He wouldn’t tell Hux until the last minute, or not tell him at all and just appear by his side when they were boarding the ship to a planet’s surface. He makes Hux’s troops nervous. It was always a long, inevitable headache for Hux.

And then once they were down there, he either lurked in the back like a sulking shadow or flew into a delicate situation with no thought for how Hux would be the one left doing damage control.

“What exactly are you hoping to accomplish, besides making my life more difficult?”

“There are things at work outside of your carefully organized plans.”

Hux sets his teeth. The day he got a straight answer from Ren instead of vague mystical Force nonsense or a temper tantrum, he’d faint dead away from shock. “It’s just an intelligence gathering mission.”

“I know what it is.”

“You could have fooled me.”

There is silence as Ren keeps looking ahead with that damn mask on. Hux hates that mask. He won’t deny that it’s an extraordinary intimidation tactic and works wonders for keeping Ren more myth than man, but it gives Ren an ego like no other.

The ship touches down and the walkway clicks down neatly. Hux strolls out, hands clasped loosely behind his back, Ren at his side, his troops following tightly behind. He does hope that Ren will behave himself for this mission.

He’s still thinking that when a blaster bolt flies close enough to his shoulder to singe his uniform and drops the trooper behind him.

 

* * *

 

An ambush. Not by the Resistance- while the Resistance is their biggest threat, it is not their only threat- but by a ragtag mercenary group who got their grubby hands on the information that they would be here today. It is not a wise move, and it will likely be their last.

But they do have surprise on their side, and a willingness to fight. They fight like soldiers trained on the street, not in an academy- rough, formless, dirty. There are many of them, and for a moment, the small Order squadron is nearly overwhelmed.

Hux is picking them off neatly with his blaster when a metal pipe comes down on his wrist. A pain shoots up his arm and he drops the weapon, cursing- he forgot to check his peripherals, it’s been too damn long since he’s seen combat. He rounds on the mercenary with the pipe- he’ll fight him with his bare hands if he must.

Then Ren is there, moving like a shadow, and with a swing of his arm Hux is knocked to the ground, against the side of the walkway. He looks up just in time to see Ren’s lightsaber cleave the mercenary in half.

Ren, he realizes, is an artist.

He knows Ren’s power but it’s hard to respect it when he’s using it to destroy equipment in a fit of temper or choke a stormtrooper because he’s moody. But like this- like _this-_

Like this, it’s _beautiful._

He moves like the saber is part of him, a natural extension of his arm. He twists fluidly to avoid blaster shots before they’re even fired. He slashes open throats, stomachs, faces, without bothering to even stop and watch the bodies drop the ground behind him.

Blood sprays his helmet and drips off. He does not slow.

 

* * *

 

It finally quiets and Hux stands from his place beside the ship. His wrist is probably broken. He doesn’t care.

Any remaining troopers have filed back inside the ship, as he ordered. He is the only one left out in the silence. Him and the figure in black with the glowing saber, standing in a pool of blood.

There’s quite a lot of blood. Every single one of the mercenaries has been cut down, and Ren did not try to make things neat. The man himself is wet with it, making his clothes hang heavy on his body and red congeal on his mask.

Hux draws closer, the blood beading up on his leather boots. The sound of his steps landing thickly in the liquid is the only noise. The sun is setting in the distance and the sky is a matching scarlet.

Ren takes off his helmet with a soft hissing noise and drops it in the blood without even looking down. His face is almost jarring, clean and unmarred by the thick red that soaks the rest of him. He turns to face Hux and his eyes are wild, feral. The eyes of an animal caught in a trap that would chew off its own leg to return to freedom. He lifts a hand and caresses Hux’s face, leaving a smear of blood that Hux can feel drying on his skin.

His throat feels dry and stuffed with cotton. He is a butterfly, pinned helplessly to a corkboard with Ren’s gaze drilling into him. Maybe Ren is inside his head, his soul at this very moment. He would not put it past him. He would not fight it.

Hux is order and control, a game of chess, always three moves ahead. Kylo Ren is none of that. Kylo Ren is fire, scorching the earth. Hux has been burned and cannot stop touching the damaged skin, feeling the rawness of it.

Ren claims Hux’s mouth in a kiss and Hux parts his lips in return. The scent of copper is thick in the air. He cannot breathe. He isn’t sure he wants to.

He feels so much and understands so little. When Ren lays him down in the blood, he can feel it soaking into his clothes. It is still warm from the lives it previously held, lives torn away by Kylo, and it makes Hux desperately, achingly aroused.

Ren does not talk but bites at Hux’s skin with the ferocity of the same trapped animal in his eyes. Hux tangles his hands in Ren’s hair and pulls, hard. Ren snarls at him and mouths up his jaw, smearing blood against his pulse line.

Hux is struck with how easily Kylo could spill his blood on the ground if he wished. He wouldn’t even need to use his saber. As wild as he looks right now, Hux is positive that if he wanted, he could dig his teeth into his neck and tear his jugular open himself, then kiss Hux with the taste of his own life in his mouth, as Hux’s hands went cold in his hair.

The idea makes Hux tremble and moan, arching up into Kylo.

He’s a sick man, he thinks dimly, as Kylo tears at his clothes.

He only tugs down the waistband of his trousers before flipping Hux- half physically, half with the Force- onto hands and knees. His hands are laid flat on the ground, slippery with blood nearly to his wrist and grimy with the dirt made muddy underneath. The blood still clinging to his hair, his back, his arms from before is trickling down, dripping off his face.

He can see his reflection in the blood beneath him. He looks wrecked, pupils blown, pale skin made paler by the bright splashes of crimson. His eyes are just as feral as Ren’s. As Ren pushes into him he wants to scream, wants to tear with his teeth and nails and destroy and fuck and all those primal urges he usually ignores.

Ren is fire, unchained and all-consuming. But Hux- Hux is the glowing embers, keeping the fire hot and grounded. Without the coals, the fire will burn out. Without the fire, the coals will go cold and useless. But together, they make something that can burn everything, burn forever if it’s fueled enough.

Ren’s thrusts are hard snaps of his hips but Hux thinks that hardly matters right now. Finesse is something reserved for people, for generals and knights on cotton sheets. Not for animals, fucking wildly in the blood of their enemies. Hux wants to get his hands around Kylo’s throat. He wants to reach into his chest and feel his heart in his hands as he fucks him. His fingers scrabble and slip in their hold on the ground.

When Ren comes, something breaks in Hux’s mind. There’s a hot moment of wrongness, like a swooping feeling of missing a step, and then there’s a rush of sensation, emotion that doesn’t belong to him. Anger like a drug pulsing through his veins and hate curled low in his stomach and the feeling of hot blood as he slices through flesh, hearing everyone’s thoughts, all of them, so loud, their thoughts as they watch the red saber come down-

Hux screams and comes, harder than he ever has in his life.

 

* * *

  

That night, lying in bed, Hux slides two of his fingers inside his mouth. He’s long since washed off the evidence of the battle outside, but he fancies that he can still taste iron, faintly.

Kylo Ren is a wildfire that will decimate everything, and Hux will be the new growth in the charred wake.

That night he does not dream of Ren shattering the galaxy, and Hux building a new one. He does not need to. He’s tasted the reality.

**Author's Note:**

> The next fic I'm gonna write is gonna be sweet and Poe Dameron-based, I swear. 
> 
> Um, I'm on [tumblr](http://mixxtapej.tumblr.com) if you'd like to talk about Star Wars or sin or whatever.


End file.
